Health & Family pages.qxp_Layout 1 21/04/2022 16:26 Page 64
MENDIP TIMES
Drunk in power
FOR a Private Eye journalist, Partygate is the gift that keeps on giving. The Metropolitan Police are dragging the drama out as long as they can, with just a couple of the 12 allegedly “non-essential” lockdown gatherings in Whitehall processed so far. What stands out most is not just that the Prime Minister and By Dr PHIL HAMMOND Chancellor both broke the law (and have chosen not to resign), nor that Boris Johnson likely has more breakages to pay for and seemingly lied to Parliament. It is that when the Met finally conclude their investigations, hundreds of apparently intelligent Whitehall employees will also receive Fixed Penalty Notices. Were they simply playing follow the leader, was there guidance (published or otherwise) to state that work-place socialising was legal or did they just not believe the laws they had made would be applied to them? The law so many have broken was deceptively simple. All faceto-face work meetings during lockdown had to be “essential for work purposes.” For Johnson to get off the hook over lying to Parliament, he has to argue that he believes work-place birthday celebrations, Christmas quizzes, wine-time Fridays, multiple leaving dos, impromptu late-night discos and pre-planned bring-abottle garden gatherings were “essential” to the proper functioning of his government. The common denominator in all of these gatherings was alcohol. Whitehall employees have high rates of alcoholdependence, driven by the belief of some that alcohol is indeed essential to the art of politics, to forge alliances, cope with stress and lubricate the decision-making processes. It also explains why politicians make such dreadful laws. As journalist Isabel Hardman observes in her book Why We Get The Wrong MPs: “Alcohol laps around Westminster every day from lunchtime until the close of play. Once the restaurants have emptied of their guests, the Commons reception rooms start to fill up with MPs attending a launch for one thing or another – and with more glasses of wine. Even if MPs aren’t drinking until obvious drunkenness, most of them are able to put a fair bit away.” For too many in Whitehall, alcohol is self-medication. In 2012, Commons doctor Ira Madan told a staff meeting that she was concerned about the proportion of MPs she had seen with alcoholrelated problems. An Alcohol Concern survey of 150 MPs in 2013 found that 26 per cent felt there was too much drinking in Parliament. The sudden and lasting nature of the pandemic lead to unprecedented stress and uncertainty, with harmful drinking up across the country and almost certainly in Whitehall. And when you’re dependent on alcohol, and alcohol is widely available in the work-place, you tend not to draw distinctions
between whether the gathering you are part of is primarily for “work” or “social” purposes. Photos will doubtless emerge depicting lockdown in Whitehall as one big “taking the piss” pissup. Who could possibly defend this? Step forward MP Michael Fabricant, who tried to argue that he knew of doctors and nurses who also drank together at work at the end of a long lockdown shift, to cope with the enormous stress they were under. If the pandemic had happened 40 years ago, he might have been telling the truth. When I trained, you could go to the doctors’ mess or medical school bar when you were on duty, or be on call from a local pub – and it was not unusual for the anaesthetist or surgeon to be called in for an emergency whiffing of alcohol. It was seen as a legitimate way to cope with the long hours and stress of the job. In his autobiography Fragile Lives, the heart surgeon Steven Westaby recounts being called in from the pub to assist in the emergency repair of an aortic tear. His main concern was not that he had been drinking, but that they he would have to leave the operating table for a pee. So he put a “sheath catheter” on himself, fed the tube into his surgical boot, cut and squelched away. This culture of “doctors are a breed apart” and “normal rules don’t apply” took a hammering when – in 1996 – the BMA declared that 13,000 UK doctors might be addicted to alcohol or drugs. If each made – say – 2,000 vital clinical decisions a year, that was 26 million decisions made each year by addicted doctors. After a fatal accident inquiry at which it was alleged a consultant surgeon operated under the influence of alcohol, there were calls to breathalyse surgeons, alongside airline pilots and train drivers. The days of drinking alcohol socially on NHS premises vanished, as in other safety-critical professions and industries except politics – where drinking while working is not only tolerated but also encouraged. It’s time to sober up.
Dr Phil is at the Wedmore Festival on May 7th, the Hen and Chicken Bedminster on July 21st, Widcombe Social Club, Bath July 22nd and the Edinburgh Fringe August 13-27th.
PAGE 64 • MENDIP TIMES • MAY 2022
